


Embarrassment and other pleasures of team bonding exercises with your crush

by ScriptaManent



Series: Seijoh week 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Flustered Kindaichi, Humor, Iwaizumi is the most reliable senpai, Kindaichi is a Gay Mess, Kunimi is just gay, Look away from the other ships they’re busy pining, M/M, Matsuhana are a married couple, Party Games, Seijoh Week 2020, Seijoh is chaotic, Team Bonding, Watari is an agent of chaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent
Summary: Team bonding sessions are supposed to be fun, but when you have a huge crush on your best friend, things are not so easy.In which Kindaichi is a disaster gay and all of Seijoh is a chaotic mess of pining teenagers.
Relationships: Background Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Background Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Kindaichi Yuutarou & Aobajousai Volleyball Club, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Kunimi Akira & Watari Shinji, Minor or Background Relationship(s), background Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Seijoh week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985593
Comments: 16
Kudos: 209
Collections: Seijoh Week 2020





	Embarrassment and other pleasures of team bonding exercises with your crush

**Author's Note:**

> ✰ Seijoh Week 2020 – Day 1: First years ✰
> 
> As always, thank you @dazzletwig for the beta and feedback on this fic ♡

If there was anything that Aobajohsai did fancy, it was for sure the team bonding events. This time, the coaches had rented a full house in the remote countryside just for the team to use — which, much to Kunimi’s dismay, also meant there was nowhere to escape to. The adults would only come around once or twice a day to bring food and check on everyone, and they had left Iwaizumi their contact info in case something happened. The rest of the time, the volleyball players would have to deal with everything on their own.

The whole thing was a sweet idea, really. A bunch of teenagers exiled together in a place where nobody would be able to hear anyone scream… No, jokes aside, it would be effective team bonding exercise.

The week with the team wasn’t what made Kindaichi anxious about what could happen there. The thing was, having one room for each school level may not have been the wisest idea coming from their coaches. Sure, they had a point, it would help them strengthen their bonds, especially considering graduation was approaching. In a few months the third years wouldn’t be there anymore to tie them together… But still.

That meant that even Iwaizumi wouldn’t be able to contain the other third years’ chaotic energy when it would unleash. And Watari was already taking bets on which of Kyoutani and Yahaba would come out alive at the end of the week.

Kindaichi dropped his bag on the floor of his room and unfurled his futon with the tip of his foot, his mind busy thinking about the nights to come. He shouldn’t have been so nervous, really. He had already shared a room with Kunimi several times, after all. But he hadn’t been aware of his crush the last time they had slept together.

Huh, even acknowledging the thought made his stomach flutter. How was he supposed to survive a whole week when all he would be able to do was overthink every little thing and be hyper-aware of Kunimi less than a meter away from him?

Doomed. He was doomed.

“Everything’s alright in there?” Iwaizumi’s voice asked from the corridor, his head poking in the doorframe. He furrowed his brows, looking around and then at Kindaichi. “Kunimi’s not here?”

“I think he’s still trying to bargain with Coach Mizoguchi before he leaves.”

Iwaizumi winced. “He won’t win this round… Anyway, if you need anything, just come and find me. I’ll be a few rooms away. Oh, and don’t worry if you hear a loud noise at night, I might need to knock Oikawa out at some point,” he joked, flashing a rare sly grin as he walked away.

Seeing the vice-captain in such a good mood relieved a bit of Kindaichi’s tension, and he allowed himself to relax a bit before shuffling footsteps announced his friend’s arrival.

Kunimi barged in, flopping face first onto Kindaichi’s futon without taking his bag off. “I guess I’m stuck here,” he whined, his voice muffled in the fabric.

Kindaichi crouched beside him, patting his shoulder awkwardly. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. I don’t even think we’ll have that much practise. They’re focused on team bonding.”

The other rolled slightly to glare up at his friend, and Kindaichi ignored the way his heart skipped a beat.

“Of course we’ll practise, _Oikawa-san_ is here,” Kunimi grumbled. “And I’m sure their idea of team bonding is even more exhausting than volleyball.”

A soft laugh escaped Kindaichi’s lips. He was most likely right.

* * *

The teenager managed to keep his nervousness at bay for most of the first morning, until Oikawa clapped his hands together, calling everybody’s attention. Kunimi tensed at Kindaichi’s side and flicked him a quick glance, already apprehending the ideas their captain had come up with.

“So, team bonding!” Oikawa started, looking at his players with an ominous expression. “First of all, can anyone tell me what you think being a team means?”

“Probably working together to hide your body when you’ve become so annoying we had no choice but to get rid of you,” Iwaizumi offered, raising an eyebrow at his best friend. “Seriously, Oikawa, you haven’t found a better introduction than this?”

The captain frowned at his accusing tone, and his lips briefly quirked into a pout.

“Get to the point, already,” Hanamaki agreed, one hand on his hips.

Kunimi nodded. He took a discreet step back and started when Matsukawa’s hand fell on his shoulder, keeping him in place. The third year shot him a creepy grin that made Kunimi shrink into his jacket. From the look on his face, Kindaichi could already tell the week wasn’t starting well for him.

“Anyway,” Oikawa continued, making his voice louder to cover his irritation, lilting as a smile stretched his lips. “Instead of volleyball, we’ll split into small groups to play competitive games against each other this week!” He paused for a more theatrical effect, ignoring the way Iwaizumi let out an irritated sigh at the act. “We’ll start right after lunch, so make sure you’re ready by two! Oh, and Kunimi-chan,” he added, his easy-going attitude suddenly replaced by a cold, scary smile. “Don’t you try to run away, Coach warned me.”

The first year shivered and nodded again, swallowing audibly when Matsukawa squeezed his shoulder.

“I guess you’ll have to stick with us this time,” Kindaichi laughed sympathetically, sending back a coy smile when Kunimi glared at him.

“You sure you don’t want to run away with me instead?” the other grunted, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

No sound came out when Kindaichi tried to reply. He closed his mouth and turned away to hide the blush he could feel creeping up his face. It was going to be a long week indeed, if he kept being so easily flustered.

The first game that Oikawa put into place only made his certitude stronger. According to Oikawa, all the games had been created and validated by the coaches, but Kindaichi couldn’t help but think the team’s captain was enjoying chaos way too much.

The first challenge they had to face already put Kindaichi’s nerves to the test. It consisted of holding his partner’s hands, touching from palm to elbow, and slowly taking steps back, still facing each other, without losing their balance. Kindaichi would have been fine with anyone other than Kunimi, but of course they were paired together, being the only first years of the lot.

From the very beginning, Kindaichi knew he would suffer. Kunimi’s hands were cold in his, freezing, but it wasn’t what sent prickles in his palms at the prolonged contact. He was so close to his friend that he could see the flickers of gold dancing in Kunimi’s eyes. His breath caressed Kindaichi’s face when he let out a sigh, and Kindaichi stopped breathing at all.

They took the first step back, then another one, and Kunimi’s skin pressed against his in a desperate grip. Kindaichi’s breath caught in his throat when Kunimi intertwined their fingers, shaking, his face twisting in pain. This should be illegal.

Suddenly, Kindaichi’s hand slipped, covered in sweat that he would blame on the weather, and both he and Kunimi fell face first onto the floor.

“Sorry!” Kindaichi cried out, jumping to Kunimi’s side before he had even thought about it. “You alright?”

“Yeah.”

The other glared at Oikawa, who turned away snorting. He was avenged when Iwaizumi purposely let go of him and the captain fell forward.

Not far from them, Watari was snapping pictures of everybody, laughing his ass off at Kyoutani and Yahaba throwing insults at each other. Surprisingly enough, they were the most successful duo — along with Hanamaki and Matsukawa — and also the most entertaining. They lasted almost three full minutes before Hanamaki cracked a joke about them holding hands and Yahaba lost his shit. It took both Iwaizumi and Oikawa to separate the two second years before there really was a corpse to dispose of.

“Why is this one exempt from this shit?!” Kyoutani barked, pointing at Watari who struggled to catch his breath.

Kindaichi couldn’t be more grateful for the distraction. Alas, it was only the beginning of his torment.

* * *

Hours later came the dreaded moment of the bath.

“First years, your turn!” Yahaba announced, knocking on their door on his way back.

Beside Kindaichi, Kunimi rolled on his back, his eyes closed.

“I don’t have enough energy left to move,” he grunted.

The other glanced at him, his gaze soft at the sight.

“We better go, I have the feeling the senpais aren’t done with us for tonight,” he heard himself say in spite of the panic that was slowly rising in him.

 _It isn’t any different than the locker room. It isn’t any different than the locker room_ , he kept repeating to himself.

But even in the locker room, he had caught his gaze following the delicate line of Kunimi’s spine, lingering on the way his hip bones popped under his skin. He had been craving to know if Kunimi would have goosebumps, would Kindaichi accidentally brush his arm—

Kindaichi inhaled sharply, straightening himself and jumping to his feet.

“I’m going ahead,” he declared.

He caught a glimpse of Kunimi sitting up as he fled, and Kindaichi could picture the confused frown on his friend’s face without looking back.

Kindaichi had already washed and was chilling in the huge bath when padded footsteps informed him of Kunimi’s arrival. As soon as he approached, Kindaichi closed his eyes, tilting his head back in what he hoped looked like a relaxed expression.

Having his eyelids shut only made him more aware of every of Kunimi’s moves, but at least he didn’t have to fight his racing heart to keep it from piercing a hole through his chest. He sank deeper into the water, wishing it to swallow him whole and hide the pink shade of his cheeks.

“You were right,” Kunimi prompted once he was settled on a stool.

Kindaichi flicked him a glance by reflex, cursing himself when he spotted Kunimi’s towel on the floor beside him and the pale glow of his lower back.

He hummed a vague reply, pushing Kunimi to go on, while praying every deity he could think of to save him from his own thoughts.

_Act normally, don’t be weird, Yuutarou._

“The third years want to play a game tonight. Matsukawa-san asked us to join them in the living room.”

“Have you found a way out?” Kindaichi asked, smiling crookedly when Kunimi sighed.

He had guessed it right.

“No. He didn’t really leave me a choice.” There was a pause before Kunimi added, “Kindaichi, are you okay? You should get out of the bath, you’re bright red.”

Kindaichi met his friend’s frown in the mirror, catching a glimpse of his own reflection. Was he really being that obvious?

“Uh, yeah, you’re right. I’ve probably been in there for too long,” he stammered, propping himself out and quickly grabbing his towel to rush to the lockers. “I’ll see you in our room.”

His face took a deeper shade of red when he ran away, and Kunimi tilted his head at the sight.

* * *

The sky was darkening outside, plunging the living-room into an intimate atmosphere. All was quiet. Oikawa was facing his team; everybody was looking at him with both expectation and apprehension.

Once everybody was gathered on the floor in a circle, the captain clapped his hands together. Kunimi jumped at the sound, holding his pillow tighter and triggering a general laugh in the rest of the team. Instinctively, Kindaichi leant closer to him, restraining himself from actually nudging him. No, he wouldn’t give in to his silly thoughts and hug him, no.

“So, what’s the plan?” Watari asked, his eyes shining with a playfulness that equalled Oikawa’s.

Kyoutani stirred uncomfortably, his back to the wall. Was he getting closer to the door? Kunimi side-eyed him the moment Hanamaki closed their only way out, slowly, making it creak like they were in a horror movie. Matsukawa drew the curtains shut for good measure, and Kunimi’s face sank into his pillow.

“Two truths, one lie!” Oikawa declared cheerfully. “For those of you who’ve lived under a rock until now and don’t know the rules, it’s very easy,” he continued, flashing a smile at Kunimi — the first year wondered what he might have done to deserve so much attention from the captain. “Mattsun, would you mind confiscating these kids’ phones? Anyway, like I said, very easy rules! You have to say three things about yourself — two truths and one lie — and the others have to guess which one is the lie. And we’ll start with Makki.”

The other groaned, Matsukawa risking a laugh when he thought his friend couldn’t see him. His shoulders still shaking, he held his hand in front of Kunimi, waiting for him to give him his phone, following the captain’s instructions.

“Why do you always have to start with me?” Hanamaki complained, making his way back to the captain’s side, but his grin gave his true feelings away. “Okay…”

“Keep it easy,” Yahaba requested. “It’s only round one.”

Hanamaki took a few seconds to think about it, and raised one finger, counting each fact as he announced it.

“This is my natural hair colour,” he began listing. “I screwed up and only packed three t-shirts to come here. I kissed Matsukawa two months ago on a dare.”

There was a short silence during which everybody stared at him. It was broken by Matsukawa’s loud laugh and the sound of his head hitting the wall in his mirth. Oikawa slammed his hand on the floor beside him, yelling something that probably was “ _You did what, now?!_ ” but his voice was covered by Yahaba calling out the first fact as a lie.

Kindaichi stared wide-eyed at the third year, not believing the amount of information he had received from the first round alone. His eyes went back and forth between Matsukawa and Hanamaki, and he only got out of his shock when Kunimi snorted beside him.

Kunimi. _Snorted_.

“Kindaichi, you should see your face,” he said between two laughs, only making his friend blush deeper.

If Kunimi’s smile was already a rare sight, his laugh was an oniric melody only heard of in the oldest myths. Every time Kindaichi got to hear it, he couldn’t help but stare in astonishment.

“Oooh, look at our shy first year,” Hanamaki cooed, his mocking look on Kindaichi, breaking the spell.

“Stop traumatizing them,” Iwaizumi intervened, but even he couldn’t keep a straight face in this situation, and he cleared his throat to hide a smile.

Matsukawa slammed his hand on Kindaichi’s back, startling him even more, and his laugh started up again, louder than before.

“C’mon, it was nothing serious,” he tried to reassure Kindaichi, but there was a light in his eyes that said otherwise.

Even Yahaba shot a pitying grin at the first year.

“Anyway,” Hanamaki called, trying to get the attention off poor Kindaichi. “Yahaba, your turn. You’re my living legacy,” he added, probably in reference to something Kindaichi didn’t get.

The other smiled fiercely, nodding as his face faded into a focused expression like the one he had whenever he was setting for someone.

“I share my birthday with Matsukawa. I want to pursue a career in politics. I once helped my cousin take care of their cat when it was giving birth .”

“Stop using me! I wanna play too!” the third year complained, nearly bursting Kindaichi’s eardrums in the process.

The latter covered his ear with his palm, wincing. He moved away from his senpai for his own safety and froze when his shoulder hit something. Kindaichi turned his head in slow motion, only to find Kunimi raising a tired eyebrow back at him.

 _Now’s your chance,_ a voice lilted in his mind. _Kiss him._

“Sorry,” he said quickly, refusing to listen to it.

He nevertheless ended up settling closer to Kunimi, careful not to touch him by inadvertance, his heart racing and his mind buzzing to the point he could barely follow the game. It turned into the high-pitched beep of a flat electrocardiogram when Kunimi leaned against him, and his soul made a break for it when Kunimi rested his head on Kindaichi’s shoulder.

He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming.

Nobody was paying them attention, only strengthening his certitude that this couldn’t be happening for real.

By the time Kindaichi managed to get his attention back on the others, it was Oikawa’s turn to play.

“Iwaizumi, you’re not allowed to guess when it’s his turn,” Matsukawa warned.

When it came to these kinds of games, the third years were the most competitive people Kindaichi had ever met. Whoever lost always made a fuss out of it, but it was also usually very fun to watch.

“You know everything about him,” Hanamaki agreed vehemently. “Down to the colour of his boxers.”

Iwaizumi twitched at the accusation. “What the fuck?! Of course not! Why would I know that?!”

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow, a mocking grin tugging at the corner of his lips, mirroring Matsukawa’s expression perfectly.

Beside them, the captain cleared his throat, bringing the attention on him once more.

“They’re green, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa informed with the most innocent expression he could make, his eyelids fluttering when Iwaizumi’s jaws clenched. “Anyway, my turn!”

He tilted his head to one side, counting on his fingers as he spoke — on the other side of the room, Watari gambled with Yahaba on how long it would take before Iwaizumi punched Oikawa.

Oikawa hummed briefly, his eyes on the ceiling as he listed his facts. “Someone asked me out last week and I still haven’t given my answer yet.” (The team’s libero nearly cheered when Iwaizumi twitched.) “I’m leaving for Argentina in a few months. The first time I babysat my nephew, he threw up on me.”

“So you really are leaving, huh?” Hanamaki couldn’t help but ask, his voice dropping to a whisper at the end.

The general mood suddenly fell into melancholy and a heavy silence followed, everybody averting their gazes. Of course Oikawa had already mentioned his departure several times, but it didn’t make it any easier to digest. As much as they teased him, everybody cared a lot about their captain.

A frown slowly formed on Oikawa’s forehead as the situation lasted.

“Come on, take a guess, at least—”

“First fact,” Kunimi called, startling everybody and bringing them back to the present — Oikawa was still there, they still had several months ahead of them to make the most of.

Kunimi didn’t move from his position to speak, his head still on Kindaichi’s shoulder, his arm pressed against the other’s as he kept his pillow against his chest like a teddy bear.

With everyone’s gazes on them, Kindaichi couldn’t help but tense up. Warmth came to his face, burning his cheeks, and he casted an alarmed look at the rest of the team. Only Iwaizumi flicked him a curious glance, but it didn’t linger.

“You wouldn’t make someone wait a whole week,” Kunimi explained.

Oikawa closed his eyes and a smile spread on his face, slow, carefully checked, just like a comedian acting on stage.

“You’re right, Kunimi-chan, I would nev—”

Iwaizumi threw the first pillow he found to his best friend’s face, and Watari let out a cry of joy as he won the bet, Yahaba scowling beside him.

“Your turn, Kunimi,” the ace invited, his calm and kind intonations contrasting with his attitude toward Oikawa.

The first year nodded slowly, still comfortably tucked against his friend. Kindaichi didn’t dare look at anyone directly. He kept throwing little glances Kunimi’s way, afraid to actually make eye-contact and remind Kunimi that he was leaning against him. Even with everyone watching them, he cherished the moment too much to want Kunimi to move. Oh, the duality of being blessed and flustered.

“I once purposely failed a test because I knew Kageyama was cheating on me and I didn’t want to give him the right answers.” (Oikawa burst out laughing and Kindaichi stared at his friend in surprise, all embarrassment suddenly gone. He couldn’t tell whether this had happened or not.) “People don’t pay attention and always talk about their secrets around me, so I now have blackmail material about every member of this team. “

Matsukawa tensed. “That kid is seriously scary. Iwaizumi, I take back everything bad I said about you.”

“Wait, what did you say about me?”

Kunimi stated his last fact without stopping, his voice not giving anything away. “I once took a nap at two in the afternoon and woke up at nine but I fell back asleep, and the next time I opened my eyes again it was noon on the next day.”

As soon as he was finished, he glanced up at Kindaichi, meeting his eyes. From the look on the other’s face, Kunimi could tell he had no idea what the lie was.

“Is there a penalty if we get the answer wrong?” Watari asked slowly, turning to Oikawa as the team pondered Kunimi’s words.

“Don’t give him ideas,” Kyoutani growled from his spot, but of course Oikawa jumped at the opportunity.

“Now there is,” he announced, grinning devilishly. “If you get it wrong, you…”

He took a few seconds to think about it, looking around with a serious expression.

“You get to spend the night with Iwa-chan! He snores so loudly that you’ll never be able to sleep,” he snickered, dodging the next flying object that came his way.

“Oikawa, we said a penalty,” Hanamaki started, a grin slowly forming on his lips. “Now everybody’s gonna try to get it wrong.”

“It’s not fair for Kunimi,” Matsukawa added. “He doesn’t get a chance at the opportunity.”

Beside them, Iwaizumi looked like he was having a stroke, his face red and stuttering nonsense, unable to follow the conversation between his three torturers. It was a rare sight, and Watari managed to snap a photo, grinning proudly at his senpai when he turned to him with a disappointed frown.

“Kindaichi, you can play too,” Kunimi pointed out, drawing the team’s attention again.

His eyes hadn’t left the other’s during all of the third years’ intervention.

“You don’t know which one is the lie,” Kunimi continued. “You’re not involved in any facts and I haven’t told you about them.”

The rest of the team fell silent, leaving Kindaichi alone to face the challenge.

“I’m sure you would give Kageyama the wrong answers, so this one is a truth,” the first year started hesitantly, faltering under Kunimi’s intense gaze. He noticed the way the corners of his lips twitched and swallowed nervously. “You sure sleep a lot, but I… I don’t think you’d actually sleep for a whole day without getting up?” he continued, so unsure that his reply ended in a question.

“What about the blackmail material?” Yahaba asked.

Kunimi ignored him, all his attention still on his friend. “Is that your answer?”

Kindaichi’s heart was beating fiercely against his ribcage, hammering. He was certain that if he looked down, he would see his chest move under the strength of its pulsations.

“Yes,” he said, his voice a whisper and his mouth dry. He tried again, louder. “Yes, the sleep one is the lie.”

Kunimi cracked a smile, exhaling a breath that sounded like a laugh from his nose. It tickled Kindaichi’s cheek and his blush deepened.

“He’s right,” Kunimi announced, eventually taking his eyes off the other.

It was only when Kunimi pulled away and rested his head back on his shoulder that Kindaichi realised how close Kunimi’s face had come to his. So close. From the others’ perspective, it must have looked like they were about to kiss, Kindaichi mused.

Out of sudden, his mind short-circuited, and he was left staring at Kunimi’s hair, unable to form a thought, even less a word.

A finger tapping his other shoulder brought him back to reality, startling him, and his heart raced so fast that it skipped a beat.

“Earth to Kindaichi,” Matsukawa smirked, teasing. “It’s your turn, are you gonna play?”

“Uh, sorry, I… I think I’m gonna go to bed, I’m tired. Sorry,” Kindaichi repeated, sputtering.

He quickly got to his feet, stumbling, and Kunimi’s eyes followed him with a concerned frown.

“So I guess we have to keep Iwa-chan?” Kindaichi heard Oikawa sigh as he left the room in a hurry.

His thoughts were so tangled that he kept no memory of his walk from the living room to his futon. He only realised he was lying down under the sheets when his eyes focused on the ceiling above him. He rolled to his side, burying his face in his pillow, but Kunimi’s face was printed under his eyelids. His heartbeat refused to calm down. He had been so close — just a little, unfortunate push, and they would have kissed.

Kindaichi muffled a whine into his pillow. Oh, he was _so_ doomed.

A sliding noise informed him that someone was coming into the room, and Kindaichi immediately pretended to be asleep. That, or he was playing dead, like a terrified prey. Was he scared? Was he embarrassed? Was he ashamed? What he knew for sure was that he was overwhelmed.

He had no idea who had come to check on him, but he wasn’t sure he liked any possibility better than the others.

“Kindaichi?”

Kunimi’s voice was low, worried, and Kindaichi struggled to keep his breathing even.

Footsteps came closer, and a rustling of fabric told him that Kunimi was crouching down beside him.

“Yuu?”

Kindaichi’s heart skipped a beat. No, this was a hallucination, he had to have imagined this one. Dreamt it up.

Never once in years of friendship had he heard Kunimi call him by a nickname. He hadn’t even used his first name ever! And this softness in his voice? No, Kindaichi was dreaming. It was better if he convinced himself he was, anyway.

A sigh, and Kunimi got up again, going back to the corridor. Kindaichi heard the door sliding shut and Kunimi’s muffled voice telling someone that he was already asleep. That was probably the biggest lie of the night. Kindaichi had no idea whether he would be able to sleep at all.

* * *

When the first person — Kyoutani, Kindaichi presumed — left the house at the crack of dawn to go for a jog, Kindaichi had probably not gotten more than two hours of sleep. He reluctantly left his futon and grabbed his bag to dig for clothes, his head spinning out of sleep deprivation and his thoughts bogged down. He flicked a glance at Kunimi, still sound asleep, and frowned when his heart clenched at the sight.

Okay, still doomed.

The memory of his voice, soft, almost fond, calling him by a nickname flowed back to the surface of his conscience and Kindaichi suppressed a whine. Very, very much doomed.

He left Kunimi and the room behind him and dragged his sorry self to the kitchen. His teammates joined him one after the other for breakfast, Kunimi not showing up before Oikawa shoved him out of his futon himself. The first year appeared one hour after Kindaichi and dropped onto the bench opposite to his friend, studying him curiously.

“Rough night?” he asked, sneakily stealing Yahaba’s toast from his plate and dripping onto it an amount of honey that would have put an energy drink to shame.

He ate it in silence, stealing another one when the setter wasn’t looking.

“Yeah. Nightmares,” Kindaichi lied, the exhaustion in his voice absolutely real.

Nightmares wasn’t the right word to describe the very vivid dreams he had had when he had eventually managed to fall asleep. He blamed them on Kunimi’s voice still echoing in his mind. He had jolted awake not long after, drenched in sweat and dizzy with things he didn’t allow himself to think about at day.

The memory brought a blush to his cheeks that only spread farther under his skin when Kunimi slid a toast in his direction. Kindaichi was frozen at the soft gesture when Kunimi bent forward and placed his palm on his friend’s forehead, checking for fever.

“You sure you’re okay?” Kunimi asked with a frown that would have looked bored to anyone else.

Kindaichi, however, knew him well enough to tell that he was concerned.

Pretty _and_ kind. What had Kindaichi done to deserve this torture?

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to… get used to being around so many people twenty-four seven,” Kindaichi lied again, motioning to englobe the rest of the team.

The other didn’t really look convinced by the excuse, but he shrugged and engulfed another toast — this one stolen from Hanamaki who had been unfortunate enough to pass by.

Kindaichi poured himself a cup of dark, bitter tea, and half of the day flew by in the blink of an eye.

Time only started ticking slower when Oikawa gathered everyone for a new game.

“This time, we’ll be splitting into two teams,” the captain started, immediately cut off by his best friend who claimed he’d be leading the other one. Oikawa let out an irritated sigh too fast for it not to be genuine. “We’ll be going for a scavenger hunt, two hours long. There’s a list of items that the coaches want us to find, and we’ll have to bring as much as we can during the time limit in order for them to count. The team with the most points win the game. No, Makki, don’t look at me like that, I have no idea what we’re supposed to find.”

“Still coming with you,” Hanamaki called. “Just in case.”

“You sure he won’t get us lost again?” Matsukawa pondered behind him, not even bothering to make his voice low. “I think we’ve got more chances with Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa tutted, wrapping an arm around his friends’ shoulders. “I’ll take you to victory.”

“Oikawa, don’t you dare cheat,” the vice-captain warned him, his voice heavy with threat.

Kindaichi stopped paying attention as soon as the quartet resumed to their old banter. In front of him, Kunimi raised a complicit eyebrow.

“Iwaizumi-san?” he asked Kindaichi, pointing with his chin at the man who was being restrained by Matsukawa.

Kindaichi nodded, unfazed by the sight. “Yeah, I still remember that time when Oikawa-san dragged us to a funfair and we had to ask our way back… In the middle of nowhere, he’s definitely not the safest option…”

Kunimi’s lips curved into a knowing smirk and he finished his toast in silence.

* * *

When it was finally time for the game, the two teams were quickly decided. Kindaichi and Kunimi joined Team Iwaizumi, along with Kyoutani, unsurprisingly. Matsukawa and Hanamaki, on the other hand, joined their captain, certain that he would be an asset, and Yahaba and Watari eventually chose to go with them — the former both out of his admiration for Oikawa and his will to stay as far as he could from Kyoutani.

“So, what do we have to find?” Kunimi asked, pulling on one side of the paper Iwaizumi was holding in front of him.

The two teams had different lists, each composed of six things to find or bring a photo of.

“A selfie with a stranger, a pure white pebble, the leaf of a maple tree, a picture of two people doing the Titanic pose on a rock, a blue flower, and… milk bread.” A devilish grin slowly spread across the third year’s face as he lifted his eyes from the paper. “I know where to find the last one.”

He flicked a glance at the other team, where everybody was drinking Oikawa’s words, grabbed his bag, and disappeared into the house. He came back two minutes later, a victorious smile on his face, and the bag way too full on his shoulder for it to only contain one loaf of bread.

“Oikawa always stocks up on milk bread. I figured we could also get some for later if we get hungry,” he grinned, placing his hands on Kyoutani and Kunimi’s backs. “Now let’s go, we’ll show these losers what we’re made of!”

“I’ll look for white pebbles and blue flowers on the way,” Kunimi decided, turning to the third year with a determined expression.

To everyone’s surprise, he looked like he really was into the game. For Kunimi, who wasn’t usually fond of any kind of exercise and generally favoured his phone over social interactions, to actively take part in a scavenger hunt was such a miracle that Kindaichi instantly regained a bit of energy.

Beside them, Kyoutani averted his gaze from Iwaizumi.

“What’s a maple tree like?” he asked with a frown, and Kindaichi had to double check to make sure that it was Kyoutani who had spoken.

“I’ll show you when we find one,” Iwaizumi assured, unsurprised or maybe a bit touched by the interest his two juniors were displaying.

He had such a strange effect on them that Kindaichi couldn’t help but smile, and Iwaizumi, even though he had no idea what was running through the first year’s head, grinned back at him.

“So, a rock for the Titanic photo, and a stranger to take a selfie with?” the younger one asked once they were far away from the opposite team.

Iwaizumi nodded, opening his bag and tossing one fluffy loaf of milk bread into Kindaichi’s hands.

“Yup. Shouldn’t be too difficult. I just hope Oikawa’s list isn’t easier to complete than ours.”

“They also have one more person,” Kunimi pointed out.

Iwaizumi shrugged it off. “They’re probably gonna get lost, anyway.”

Kunimi and Kindaichi exchanged a mocking smile.

It didn’t take them long to find a maple tree, and an impressive-looking rock was waiting for them only a few hundreds of meters farther. It was the perfect size for two people to stand on if they were careful not to push each other, and soon the four teammates found themselves looking at each other to decide who would be in the picture.

“Kyoutani, up with me,” Iwaizumi eventually decided when it was obvious they wouldn’t get anything sorted out this way.

This was one of these days when he stopped holding back and actually had fun teasing the others. His smile was invigorating, contagious, and even if Kyoutani protested, his cheeks slightly flushed, he climbed on the rock with the other.

Kunimi, being the tech geek he was, snapped a picture that would have rivaled a professional photographer’s. It was nearly golden hour, and the light was warm and enchanting, fairy-like. It highlighted the contrasts and played in the leaves, casting delicate shadows on Iwaizumi and Kyoutani’s silhouettes. Kindaichi looked over his friend’s shoulder, captivated, and Kunimi bumped into him when he stepped back to take a wider shot.

He didn’t apologize, nor did he move away once he was done. Behind him, Kindaichi had frozen at the touch, his face the colour of the maple tree leaves in their bag.

When it was clear that they needed to head back to the house, the four teenagers walked away, their mood a bit lower — they would have loved to tick everything off the list.

An old woman crossed their path, going in the opposite direction, and immediately, Kindaichi jumped in front of her. He spoke too fast, messily asking her for a selfie, explaining that they were a volleyball team having a competitive game and that they would owe her if she agreed to take a photo with him.

His awkward enthusiasm made the old lady laugh, and when she finally accepted, Kindaichi thanked her during two long minutes, offering her an extra loaf of milk bread as he joined the others.

“You probably made her day,” Kunimi laughed when Kindaichi came back waving his phone triumphantly.

“Send the selfie to the group chat so that we’re sure that a sore loser won’t delete it from your phone,” Iwaizumi advised, eyeing his junior. “Hanamaki doesn’t take losing well, and Oikawa is worse,” he added in front of the first year’s surprised expression.

“Yahaba too,” Kyoutani confirmed at his side, earning himself shocked looks from his teammates. “What?”

Iwaizumi patted his shoulder with a barely contained grin before Kyoutani went back to full defensive mode. “Nothing. I’m glad we have you on the team,” he laughed.

Kyoutani grumbled something, his cheeks reddening once more, and he kicked a pebble out of the way. His reaction was nearly comical when he ran after it the next second — it was a pure white pebble, the second to last item they needed on their list.

“I’m a bit gutted that we’re still missing something,” Kindaichi sighed, eyeing the paper in Iwaizumi’s hand.

On the page, everything was scratched out, save for one line. A blue flower.

They had seen a lot of flowers, but none of them had been any shade close to blue.

Kunimi hummed, the sign that he had something on his mind, and Kindaichi lifted an eyebrow.

“What if we draw a flower and colour it in blue?” Kunimi offered, carefully studying the others’ reactions.

Iwaizumi blinked, considering the idea, and Kindaichi let out a laugh.

“You really failed a test out of spite, right?” Kyoutani asked beside him. There was a hint of admiration in his voice that brought a scary smile on Kunimi’s face.

“It’s not against the rules, it’s our own interpretation of the list,” Iwaizumi thought out loud. He grinned mischievously, raising his hand for a high-five. “Good job, Kunimi. You too, Kyoutani, Kindaichi!”

They jogged the last meters to the house and looked everywhere for a sheet of paper and a blue pen.

Kyoutani had just finished colouring and Iwaizumi was ruffling his hair when Oikawa’s team entered the house, their bag on the shoulder and an exhausted look on their faces.

“I’m _never_ going _anywhere_ with you again,” Hanamaki warned, pointing an accusing finger at their captain who huffed in response.

Iwaizumi beamed at the sight.

“Missed me?” he teased, obnoxiously biting into Oikawa’s bread.

The other gasped as soon as he spotted it, an offended expression on his face, but the rest of his team drowned his protestations out.

“Don’t ever let us follow him again!” Matsukawa whined, walking to the vice-captain and dramatically throwing an arm around his shoulders.

He stole a chunk of food in the process, then pointed at Oikawa in the exact same manner as Hanamaki seconds earlier.

“This stubborn prick dragged us to the nearest town!”

“Language,” Iwaizumi growled, shoving him off and flicking a pointed glance at the first years.

Crossing the doorstep, Watari crawled to the nearest bench, panting and deprived of his usual smile, and Yahaba jumped on the first water bottle he could get his hands on. Team Oikawa was a sorry sight, compared to the fresh quartet that Iwaizumi had successfully led.

“So, _Captain_ , what’s the penalty for losers, this time?” he grinned.

Oikawa winced and glared at him, mumbling a “Whatever you want” that was barely audible.

“I think they already suffered enough because of you,” Iwaizumi granted, much to the others’ relief. “But you’re the leader, you have to set an example, right?”

Oikawa gulped audibly, and Kindaichi was pretty sure he heard him beg for leniency when Iwaizumi made him change his profile picture to the most embarrassing photo of Oikawa Iwaizumi found in his phone.

* * *

They were about to have dinner when Iwaizumi walked past the first years’ room and froze in the doorway. He took a quick glance at Kindaichi’s form sitting against a wall before he decided to join him on the floor.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his voice full not of concern but of something that sounded closer to genuine empathy.

Not “ _what’s wrong?_ ” or “ _are you okay?_ ” just “ _do you want to talk about it?_ ”

Iwaizumi always found the right words that people needed to hear.

Kindaichi let out a sigh and shook his head, his breath already a bit easier. He unwrapped his arms from around his knees and leant back in a more relaxed position.

“I don’t really know what to say,” he admitted, closing his eyes to shut the vision of his senpai’s gaze on him. He opened his mouth a few times, gaping like a fish out of water, but words were failing him. “I… I really don’t…”

Iwaizumi nudged Kindaichi’s shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he assured. “But I want you to know that you can go to anyone on this team for advice if you ever need to. And I mean _anyone_ ,” Iwaizumi insisted. “Even Yahaba, or Oikawa. He’s an insufferable dork most of the time, but he’s usually good at helping people sort things out.”

Kindaichi nodded, silent but grateful. Minutes passed, and Iwaizumi stayed by his side, quiet and not pushing him to talk more if he didn’t want to. Kindaichi was really glad that he was the one who had found him.

“Thank you,” the first year eventually said in a low voice.

Iwaizumi offered him a smile and got up to his feet, holding his hand out to help Kindaichi stand up. “Let’s go eat something before there’s nothing left,” the third year ordered. “Eating will make you feel better, and I don’t trust these guys with food.”

A laugh escaped Kindaichi’s lips and he followed the other to the dining room. Hopefully the coaches had brought them something warm to eat.

Dinner passed as a dream, Kindaichi pondering Iwaizumi’s words and not paying any attention to what was happening around him. Maybe he did need help to get his thoughts in order, and deep down, he knew that Iwaizumi was right, that anyone on the team would be willing to help him. Yet, as much as Kindaichi admired Oikawa, he trusted Iwaizumi more to keep his feelings for Kunimi a secret — and to remain _discreet_ about them. Knowing their captain, he would probably make plans to set them up together in the process, and they would without a doubt make things awkward for everybody.

No, definitely, Oikawa wasn’t an option. Iwaizumi was the safe gamble. All that Kindaichi needed to do was to get past the embarrassment that washed over him at the thought of asking his senpai for love advice.

He waited for the right time to take Iwaizumi aside from the rest of the team, but of course it had to be the most difficult part of the plan. There was never a moment when Iwaizumi was alone.

Dinner? Everybody was there. Evening jog? Kyoutani was at his heels. At night? He shared a room with the other third years. And if by some miracle Iwaizumi managed to slip away from people’s grip, Oikawa always found him within the next ten seconds. To be fair, Kindaichi wasn’t even sure that Iwaizumi could go to the restroom without someone going with him.

He still hadn’t figured the situation out by the time Oikawa called them to the living room to play another game.

“What are we doing, this time?” Watari asked, sitting down.

For the very first time, he wasn’t standing between Kyoutani and Yahaba. They sat side by side, a fair distance between them, but it was impressive enough to leave Kindaichi staring at them for a little longer than socially acceptable.

“We’re playing fuck, marry, kill,” Matsukawa announced, leaning back against a wall.

Beside him, Oikawa gasped. “ _Kiss_ , marry, kill, Mattsun! There are first years!”

The other hummed a vague response, and Iwaizumi frowned at them both. “I don’t think this one was on the coaches’ list.”

“We’re allowed to take liberties, Iwa-chan,” his best friend objected, rolling his eyes and waving his hand. “Don’t be such a party-pooper!”

Hanamaki kept Iwaizumi from hitting their captain again while the rest of the team settled in the room. Once more, Kunimi brought his pillow, ready to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation if it turned out to be too boring. From the very beginning, he sat with his back against Kindaichi’s side, unbothered by the proximity and unaware of how the simple gesture drew most of Kindaichi’s attention to him. Focusing is hard, when something keeps most of your mind on edge.

“Okay, let’s start!” the captain exclaimed once everybody was there and he had successfully avoided being punched. Unsurprisingly, his best friend was his first target. “Iwa-chan! Kiss, marry, kill… Tobio-chan, Mad Dog-chan, and me.”

Iwaizumi didn’t miss a beat. “Kiss Kyoutani—” (He muttered a short apology to the second year who shrugged it off, looking away, and Iwaizumi looked back at Oikawa.) “—marry Kageyama, just to piss you off, and kill you.”

Thus ensued a theatrically dramatic scene, courtesy of Oikawa Tooru, that Iwaizumi cut off without a second thought.

“Well, Kyoutani?” he called, and it occurred to Kindaichi that he wasn’t forcing them to play, they still had a choice. “Kiss, marry, kill… Yahaba, Oikawa, Watari.”

He flicked a demonic grin to his friend, certain of who Kyoutani would pick for the last option, but it turned out the choice wasn’t that obvious to the second year. He focused on the game, taking it as a personal challenge, his eyebrows furrowing into an expression that made him look even scarier than usual.

“Kiss Watari, marry Yahaba, kill Oikawa,” he eventually declared.

Beside him, the second year setter turned to him with a jolt. “Wait, what?”

Iwaizumi tensed, ready to intervene, but for once Kyoutani didn’t throw a tantrum. He stared at a point in front of him, like a guilty kid waiting for his sentence. Near them, Watari grinned like he was having the best time of his life, and he nudged Kyoutani to continue the game.

“I need an explanation,” Yahaba still insisted.

“He can use his exemption card,” Matsukawa countered, and the frown that Oikawa sent him confirmed Kindaichi’s suspicion that the middle blocker was making it up on the spot. “He doesn’t have to play or give an explanation if he doesn’t want to. Only second and first years are allowed to use them, obviously,” he added with a lazy grin, looking at his friends. “By the way, Kindaichi, do you want to use it to justify you leaving yesterday or do you want to keep it?” he asked, this time back to serious.

“Oi, don’t push him,” Iwaizumi warned.

“I think it’s only fair to say I used it,” the first year nonetheless agreed after a moment’s consideration — he prefered to play the game, he didn’t want a preferential treatment.

Iwaizumi sent him a concerned look.

“Kindaichi, you don’t have to. You weren’t feeling good—”

“No, it’s fine,” the first year assured, flicking a brief glance at Kunimi who didn’t seem to be listening to anything that was happening around him.

Kindaichi was honestly a little ashamed of how flustered his friend kept making him, but it wasn’t an excuse, and he knew these were almost the last moments that this team would spend together. Soon, the third years wouldn’t be there anymore, and the whole dynamic would change.

“Can we play now?” Watari insisted again. “Besides, I think Kunimi is recording everything for blackmail material, and he’d like us to keep going,” he added, chuckling when the latter raised an eyebrow at him and smirked ominously.

The game went on, alternating between full offenses to teammates and mocking laughs.

“Kindaichi!” Hanamaki called, and the poor boy really didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Kiss, marry, kill: Oikawa, Kunimi, Iwaizumi.”

At that, Oikawa whined, begging Kindaichi and trying to corrupt him with everything he could think of — so far, the only one who hadn’t killed him was Yahaba, now declared the captain’s favourite member of the team. Unfortunately for him, Kindaichi barely paid any attention to the captain’s pleas. He glanced nervously at Kunimi whom he was sure had tilted his chin toward him, even though he couldn’t see his face at all. Killing him was out of the question, but that left kissing and marrying, and he didn’t like the idea of being outed by a game. The objective part of his mind knew that nobody would take his answer seriously, but his heart kept beating faster as he overthought his options.

“I, um... kiss Iwaizumi-san, marry Kunimi, and kill Oikawa-san — sorry,” he added sheepishly when the latter let out a scream and dropped onto his back.

“Kindaichi, I had faith in you!”

“He made the right choice,” Matsukawa teased.

“I would have married Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki opposed with a thoughtful pout.

At Kindaichi’s side, a familiar voice rose to his ears, so low that only he could hear it.

“I agree with Matsukawa-san.”

Kindaichi shot a startled look at Kunimi, unsure of the meaning of his words, nor of whether he had really heard them at all. He blinked a few times, and considered his next move.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk his health over the answer that Kunimi would give to the game. Thus, he picked him as the next player, making sure to leave his own name out of the options.

“Um, Kunimi. Kiss, marry, kill: Watari-san, Kageyama, Hanamaki-san.”

The first year frowned, turning to glare at Kindaichi, probably for putting Kageyama among the options. At least, the setter’s fate was obvious.

“Kill Kageyama,” Kunimi said first, his voice full of resentment, making the whole room laugh. “Kiss Hanamaki-san, and marry Watari.”

The second year cheered, bending forward to fist-bump the first year. It was only the second day, but the team bonding experience was already paying off, judging by the way Kunimi opened up to some of his senpais, and by the fact both Kyoutani and Yahaba had lived under the same roof for nearly forty hours and were still both alive.

“Let’s do a second round!” Oikawa grunted when everyone had had his turn.

Yahaba, who had started standing up, froze mid-move and waited to see the outcome. Kyoutani, on the other hand, didn’t bother giving the captain a thought, calling it a day.

“Come on! Or maybe we can upgrade it to third years only? Mattsun, give me some help here!”

“Only if we go back to the original version,” the other imposed, raising an eyebrow. He was smiling, though, sure that Oikawa would agree.

“But I’m sick of all of you killing me,” Oikawa nevertheless opposed. “So, Iwa-chan,” he called, pointing a finger at his friend who rolled his eyes at him. “Fuck, marry, _kiss_ : Mattsun, Makki, and me.”

Proud of his little trick, the setter grinned widely, and Kindaichi hurried to leave the room before he witnessed a real murder.

A sigh, this one more weary than irritated, escaped Iwaizumi’s lips. “Fuck Matsukawa, marry Hanamaki, kiss you.”

Immediately, Matsukawa and Hanamaki high-fived. Their laughs echoed on the walls, loud in the night and following the fleeing first and second years.

“You really wasted an opportunity to tell him ‘ _fuck you_ ’?!” Hanamaki wheezed, leaning on his best friend for balance.

Oikawa remained uncharacteristically silent, however, staring at his best friend with a puzzled expression. In front of him, Iwaizumi stared back, not a hint of a smile on his face.

In the shadow, Kunimi grinned and swiftly left the room. He had seen enough.

* * *

Kindaichi waited for the house to fall into a relative silence before he left his room. It was already late and Kunimi had fallen asleep... It may be his only chance.

He sneaked into the corridor, tensing up every time the floor creaked, and made his way to the third years’ room. When Matsukawa’s laugh resonated behind the door, he knew he had found the right one.

His knock cut the hilarity off. There was a pause, and then footsteps came toward him. Hanamaki was the one to open, surprise written all over his face.

“Kindaichi?”

“I, um… Is Iwaizumi-san here?” the other stammered, looking everywhere but at his senpais watching him.

Behind Hanamaki, Oikawa and Matsukawa exchanged a look.

“Ah, he went to make sure that everybody was still alive in the other room,” the captain said, pointing in the general direction of the second year’s apartments, a grin tugging at his lips.

Matsukawa shrugged, a mocking smirk across his face. “He can always call us to hide the body.”

“We’ll let you dig the hole,” Oikawa warned with a slight frown, as if really considering the situation, before he turned back to the first year. “Why did you need him?”

In front of Kindaichi, Hanamaki leant against the doorframe, laid-back. A mocking sparkle lit in his eyes, and he cracked a smile.

“If you want to confess to him, you’ll have to get in line,” he joked, straight up snorting when Kindaichi’s face turned a dark shade of red at the implication.

“N-No! I— It’s not— I don’t want to—” the poor first year stuttered, words failing him once more. “I just— I’ll go and try to find him,” he managed to excuse himself in a breath.

Hanamaki’s laugh followed him into the corridor, even after the door closed. This guy had no mercy for his kouhais.

Just as Kindaichi had guessed, Iwaizumi wasn’t with the second years, and he found him sitting on the porch in front of the house, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The first year almost felt bad for breaking his well deserved rest. As soon as he heard him coming, Iwaizumi turned around with an alarmed expression.

“Oh, it’s you, Kindaichi,” he relaxed with barely contained relief. “For a second I thought Matsukawa had found me,” he grimaced. “As much as I like them, they’re exhausting.”

Kindaichi let out a small laugh, standing awkwardly beside the third year. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Immediately, Iwaizumi moved to make room for his junior on the stairs.

They sat side by side in silence for a moment, enjoying the quietness of the night. A rodent zoomed off in a patch of dead leaves, stunningly noisy. Far away, an owl hooted a melancholic melody. Iwaizumi leant back, crossing his legs. He made no move to go back inside.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Kindaichi eventually asked.

He kept his eyes focused on Iwaizumi’s hand at his side, unable to look him in the eye. The third year sat up more conveniently and picked up a leaf that fluttered on the ground near them.

“Sure. Actually, do you want to go for a walk?” he offered after a quick glance back at the door. “I have the feeling we’re going to be disturbed very soon if we stay here.”

Kindaichi nodded, and Iwaizumi jumped to his feet, typing a few words away on his phone. The first year followed him in silence as they walked away and the night engulfed them.

For a long moment, only their footsteps could be heard. Kindaichi had no idea where to start, and so he told Iwaizumi in all honesty.

“What’s the simplest way to put it?” Iwaizumi offered.

Kindaichi frowned, his heart beating faster as he thought about his answer.

Obviously, it was “ _I’m in love with my best friend_ ,” but speaking the words out loud was terrifying enough to make his stomach twist. He swallowed the thought, slightly shaking his head.

“What… What would you do if…”

 _If you had feelings for Oikawa-san and could no longer act normally around him?_ he wanted to say, but again he didn’t think that was the best way to put it.

Without being aware of it, he picked up his pace, as if trying to outrun his thoughts.

_I’m flustered around someone and I don’t know how to be just friends anymore._

_I can’t keep my feelings at bay, and I don’t know what to do about them._

_How do you tell your best friend you love them?_

Behind him, Iwaizumi’s footsteps tripped, and Kindaichi realised with horror that he had said the last one in a whisper. In the quiet night, it had been enough for the third year to hear it. Kindaichi froze, Iwaizumi immobile behind him, his heart pounding in his ears. He could feel his senpai’s gaze on his back, intense.

“I’m still figuring this one out,” Iwaizumi said softly.

A beat. Kindaichi turned to him, slowly. Iwaizumi looked back at him, and there was no trace of judgment in his eyes, no laugh, no disgust, only an earnest sincerity, and a whole lot of empathy.

“Wait, do you mean—”

“If we’re gonna talk about this, please, do as I say, not as I do,” Iwaizumi cut him off, a joyless laugh escaping his lips, scratching his cheek in a sheepish expression that Kindaichi had never seen before. “As you can guess, I’m not really an example to follow.”

For a split second, Kindaichi wondered how Oikawa would have reacted to the same question. He had the idea that somehow, it wouldn’t have been very different.

“I’ve wasted too many years asking myself the same question,” Iwaizumi grimaced again, that odd smile across his face, almost guilty. “So I’d say just go for it. Besides, I don’t think Kunimi would react badly,” he added with a grin that this time was genuine — teasing, even.

A blush crept up Kindaichi’s cheeks, and he was grateful for the darkness that he hoped was enough to hide it.

“I still don’t know how to act normally around him, though,” he couldn’t help but point out in a helpless tone.

Iwaizumi laughed, nudging Kindaichi when he caught up to him. “Have you seen one person in this team who’s able to function normally? Off the court, I mean.”

Kindaichi’s mind flashed to the late night games and all the times the whole team had hung out all together. The third years teasing Oikawa; Yahaba yelling on Kyoutani; Watari taking bets whenever he could; Kunimi leaning against him… Laugh, chaos, tease, banter, and occasional quarrels followed each other. The essence of their own Seijoh.

A smile appeared on Kindaichi’s face, easing the tension in his shoulders. Being part of such a team, he really didn’t have any reason to fear embarrassment.

* * *

Kindaichi slept way better that night, and when he woke up on the next morning, Kunimi’s voice was calling his name. He was already up and awake, changed into casual clothes, and if Kindaichi’s mind hadn’t been confused with sleep and Kunimi being the first thing he saw opening his eyes, maybe such a sight would have alarmed him.

Instead, it took several minutes to reach the logical part of his brain.

“Wait, what time is it?”

“Half past eight. We decided to let you sleep in a bit,” Kunimi admitted with an amused expression when Kindaichi jumped to his feet in a hurry.

Kunimi watched, a mocking smile upon his face, as his friend tripped over his own bag looking for it.

“What’s the plan for today?” Kindaichi asked, fighting the collar of his t-shirt.

Kunimi arched an eyebrow.

“You should start with not stealing my clothes,” he snickered, and Kindaichi froze to look down at a plain grey t-shirt that was definitely not his, and at least two sizes too small for him.

He apologized quickly, his cheeks burning, and Kunimi laughed at him when he begged for help to get out of the tight clothes.

Kunimi’s laugh died off when he spotted a bag of volleyballs in the entrance of their shared house.

“I thought we weren’t going to play this week?” he said slowly, his shoulders tensed.

He was already eyeing the exit when a hand slammed on his back, pushing him forward. The first year glared back to see Oikawa grinning at him. _Fuck._

“I said we weren’t going to play volleyball, Kunimi-chan, not that we weren’t going to practise at all,” the captain pointed out with one of these scarily sweet smiles of his that sent shivers down people’s spines. “There’s more than one way to do it.”

Kunimi glanced at his best friend, a dark glimmer in his eyes. _Told you_.

The game that followed was pretty easy at first glance. The team had split into two circles in a nearby meadow, and within each group, people had to toss the ball to someone facing them while sharing one fact about themselves. One of the specific rules of the game was that they had to stick to overhand passes only, but that wasn’t where the real difficulty lay. The hardest part of it was coming up with something to say without thinking as they tossed the ball to the next person. It had to be quick — and for someone in Kindaichi’s situation, throwing the first thing on the top of his mind was a dangerous situation.

“Kindaichi!”

The ball came to him, describing a high arc in the air, giving him a fraction of second only to think.

“I stole Kunimi’s t-shirt this morning,” he slipped. “Hanamaki-san!”

The good thing about the exercise was that it didn’t allow the others any time to register his words, or to make fun of him. Or at least, he kept telling himself so.

As soon as they took a break, Iwaizumi came to him, a concerned light in his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked, and Kindaichi noticed the way his frown deepened on the question mark.

“Yes…”

The first year hated how unsure he sounded.

“Make a quick list,” the third year advised him in a rush, eyeing his friends who were already sending them curious looks. “Random trivia. Your first pet, your mark at the last test, favourite colour…”

He gave him a final nod before going to someone else — Kyoutani, Kindaichi noted. It occurred to him that Iwaizumi was in the same fragile position as him — unwilling to say too much, forced to watch his every word —, and the fact that he wasn’t the only one going through this situation helped him breathe a bit more easily.

The second round started, with a different lineup for each team.

“Watari!”

The ball flew into the air, and the libero winced when he touched it. Damn overhand receives.

“I’m wearing contacts. Kyoutani!”

“I have three dogs. Iwaizumi-san,” he called, clicking his tongue when a double-tap echoed on the ball as he tossed it.

The ace positioned himself under the ball.

“I have secrets not even Oikawa knows about.”

Iwaizumi flicked a look at Kindaichi — Oikawa let out an offended “What?!” —, and his fingers hit the ball away in a smooth move that betrayed years of experience.

“Kunimi!” the spiker called.

The first year scowled, his eyes on the ball. He tossed it away before he could think of anything to say, and the round came to an end.

* * *

“Who wanna bet on what dumb game we’ll have to play tonight?” Kunimi asked in a low voice, eyeing Watari at the dinner table.

The libero flashed a grin and leant closer to the first year. “I’m in. What’s your guess?”

From the other side of the table, Hanamaki sent them a curious look. He nudged his best friend, and both of them took their plates to sit down closer to their juniors.

“So, what are we scheming here?” Matsukawa grinned slowly.

Watari’s smile only widened. “Betting on tonight’s game.”

“Oh, my dessert’s on truth or dare,” Hanamaki claimed, digging in his friend’s bowl to take a mouthful of rice.

“Nah, I think Oikawa’s keeping it for the last night,” Matsukawa countered, absentmindedly pushing his food toward the other. “You guys should probably keep your right to withdraw for that moment, by the way,” he advised, pointing his chopsticks at the underclassmen.

“Truth or dare with Oikawa can get dirty,” Hanamaki winced in agreement.

Kindaichi spotted the same slightly worried expression as he was probably making on Yahaba’s face when he looked their way.

“But I don’t think it’ll be something like that, tonight,” the third year continued, leaning backward to catch a glimpse of the captain’s expression. “It’s not his plotting face.”

“I don’t like this one better,” Matsukawa said, his face unreadable.

When Kindaichi flicked a look at Oikawa, he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just the captain teasing Iwaizumi.

* * *

Of course, the third years’ instincts had been right. Kunimi’s face pressed against his chest, Kindaichi cursed Oikawa’s idea with a passion he didn’t know he had within him, staring at the ceiling as if trying to summon some kind of deity who would save him from the embarrassing situation.

“This is something the coaches thought of,” Oikawa had announced once all of them had gathered.

Immediately, the warning had been ominous to everyone. Even he had looked nervous. There had been a shaky edge to his voice, and he had kept his gaze on his kouhais only.

“This is _not_ my idea,” he had insisted again, and this time the rest of the team had really started to apprehend the exercise.

And for most of them, they had been right.

Oikawa had taken a deep breath in, then clapped his hands, a forced smile upon his face. Kyoutani had backed off.

“Tonight’s exercise isn’t a game, it’s about, um, how do I put it… growing… closer… to each other,” he had faltered, clearing his throat in the middle of his sentence. “We’ll—” he had taken another deep breath in, bracing himself for the incoming reactions he had known would be wild. “I want everyone to find a partner and put his ear against the other’s heart. Thirty seconds top, and then we change.”

Even he had winced as he had announced it. Kyoutani had called it bullshit. Kunimi had eyed the nearest window. Iwaizumi had yelled.

“ _Are you kidding me?!_ ”

Oikawa had taken a folded paper out of his back pocket. Indeed, it bore the coach’s handwriting, along with a bold, red, underlined “Do _not_ skip this one.”

This was how Kindaichi found himself with Kunimi listening to the feverish staccato of his heart, his hand resting lightly on Kindaichi’s hip. There was no way he could miss the way Kindaichi held his breath, or the stiffness of his stance. There was no way he could come up with an heterosexual explanation for this.

Thirty long seconds passed.

Yahaba cursed when Kyoutani left Watari to approach him. Matsukawa’s hand lingered around Hanamaki’s waist as the latter pulled away, keeping him close. The deep shade of red on Iwaizumi’s face was on par with Kindaichi’s when Oikawa took a quick step back, staring at him with wide eyes. Eventually, Kunimi pulled back out of Kindaichi’s space, his sudden absence leaving Kindaichi shivering in the middle of summer.

For a very rare instant, Aobajohsai was silent.

“Oikawa, do we really have to go through it again?” Matsukawa asked.

His fingers were still clutching Hanamaki’s t-shirt, as if the sheer idea of letting him go was painful.

“I–I think thirty seconds were enough, if everybody’s fine with it,” the captain said in a blank voice.

There was a general agreement. Only Kyoutani remained eerily silent.

Eventually, Oikawa gathered his thoughts, sticking another smile across his face.

“Guys, I think we deserve ice creams, now! I would gladly have shared some delicious milk bread with you, but _someone_ decided to rob me yesterday,” he continued, theatrically placing a hand on his hip to look at Iwaizumi.

There was a short beat, and the vice captain resumed to his usual frown, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You would never have shared, Shittykawa. You’d let the first years starve before you offer them some of your food.”

“He’d probably steal from them,” Hanamaki corrected.

The third years’ act, forced at first, quickly set the atmosphere back to their typical tease. They put the team back on track, as if nothing had happened at all. And yet, there lay the little signs that betrayed a change in the dynamics, maybe the first tiny trigger of a bigger, much more impactful butterfly effect.

It was in the way Hanamaki had covered Matsukawa’s hand with his, intertwining their fingers on his waist as if they had always done it. It was in the slightly confused glances Iwaizumi and Oikawa flicked each other when they thought they wouldn’t be caught looking. It was in the way Yahaba’s hand brushed Kyoutani’s back when he left the room. It was in the deafening pulse of Kindaichi’s blood in his ears, in the smile tugging at the corners of Kunimi’s lips. It was in Watari’s smile as he looked at his teammates, a contented Cupid’s expression on his face.

* * *

Kindaichi had barely recovered from the bonding session when Kunimi entered their shared room, yawning like he was about to collapse. He flicked a look at Kindaichi and the latter’s heart hammered once more against his chest, as if he had just been caught doing something forbidden.

“Kindaichi, you’d tell me if you were sick, right?” the younger one asked, eyeing his friend with a frown.

Confusion settled on the other’s face and he blinked at Kunimi.

“Of course, why?”

“You’ve looked a bit feverish lately,” Kunimi pointed out.

He stepped closer, entering Kindaichi’s personal space without a second thought, reducing the other’s inner voice to an incoherent hubbub.

Kunimi took one more step forward, nearly bumping into Kindaichi, and pressed his hand flat against the other’s chest. Under his fingers, Kindaichi’s heart was dancing to its own rhythm. It skipped a beat, pulsed faster, the uneven tempo sending vibrations down Kunimi’s forearm.

He leant closer, replacing his hand with his ear, just like he had done before when everybody had been there to witness.

Oh, he may have found his new favourite music, a melody to lull him into peace.

Kindaichi tensed up under his touch. He held his breath. Kunimi smiled where he couldn’t see him. He waited there, counting seconds, curious, playful.

Thirty seconds passed. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of Kindaichi’s t-shirt.

It took two minutes before Kindaichi made a move. His hand was shaking when he placed it on Kunimi’s back in a careful gesture.

It wasn’t yearning, it wasn’t tender. It was light and afraid, more a ghost than a touch.

His heart picked up his pace again.

“Yuu?” Kunimi called.

A skipped beat. An inaudible inhale resonating against his ear.

“Will you go out with me?”

Kindaichi jumped, and Kunimi didn’t have to look up to know that he was staring at him, his face flushed, a confused expression on his face.

“I mean it,” he added.

And then, just for good measure, he lifted his chin and gazed back at Kindaichi, a mocking grin playing at the corner of his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first fic for Seijoh week! Feel free to leave a comment if you liked it ♡  
> You can expect more content for Day 2, Day 4, and Day 7 (this one won't be added to the collection, though, because it has a more mature scene)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


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